


A room, a sick man, and a picture

by sea_pig



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-23
Packaged: 2018-03-08 17:01:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3216746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sea_pig/pseuds/sea_pig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trapped in the house that doesn't exist</p>
            </blockquote>





	A room, a sick man, and a picture

**Prompt: A room; a sick man; and a picture**

   John Peters-you know, the farmer--stood in the house that doesn’t exist. You know, the one that seems like it exists, like its just right there when you look at it, and its between to other identical houses, so it would make more sense for it to be there than not.

John was very sick. He had been staring at these pictures of lighthouses for days now, moving between the four identical pictures at random intervals. He was starting to get dizzy, hungry, and thirsty, but he couldn’t leave, he could only alternate between those four pictures.

   It seemed that he had done this for an eternity, or maybe three days, just the same thing over and over, until something different happened.

   He heard a voice.

   A girl’s voice, speaking fast, like she was nervous, and footsteps, quick and hurried. It was Intern Dana from the radio station. She walked up to him, saying his name, and waving her hand in front of his face, even tapping him on the shoulder, but he couldn’t respond; the sickness that had crept through his veins forced him to walk away from her, to the next picture.

   Eventually, Dana left, talking into her phone, and taking the noise with her, until it was silent again. John wanted to yell at her, to come back, to end this horror, but he was a prisoner in his own body and he moved onto the next picture.

   A door opened and closed, and John Peters knew there was a way to escape, if only he could… move. But John had given up a long time ago, and he moved onto the next picture.

 

And the next,

 

and the next,

 

and the next.

 

Forever.


End file.
